


before I dare to give you up

by jyonzu



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, Light Asphyxiation/Breathplay, M/M, Morning Sex, alcohol mention, like 2 grains of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 13:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20359105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jyonzu/pseuds/jyonzu
Summary: “The Duke arises,” Sylvain announces. Normally Felix would suck his teeth and roll over, but instead he raises an eyebrow and gives two soft pats at the edge of the mattress where he lies. A rare invitation.





	before I dare to give you up

**Author's Note:**

> i know this goes without saying but this is literally just so self-indulgent!! i deserve this!! they deserve this!!
> 
> post-game, no spoilers, but if you've read their paired ending it will make the most sense.

Sylvain wakes first, which is typical. It’s light outside, but barely, and he lies awake quietly for a few minutes until the chill of the room tickles his nose. He slips out of the bed and throws a fur-lined robe over his shoulders as he crosses over to the fireplace. The cold air runs sharply over his naked front as he walks, but his body is still warm from sleeping beside another, buried under thick downy quilts. 

At the hearth, he crouches down, flexing his fingers a few times before igniting the wood with a small fireball. Though he’s been using magic less, a fire spell is not easily forgotten in his family’s frigid territory. He gazes absently into the flames as they overtake the fuel. Felix leaves today.

He ignores the way his knees creak as he stands, evidence that the war aged all of them a bit past what’s normal. As he turns back to the bed, he sees that Felix is awake now, staring over at him silently.

“The Duke arises,” Sylvain announces. Normally Felix would suck his teeth and roll over, but instead he raises an eyebrow and gives two soft pats at the edge of the mattress where he lies. A rare invitation.

Sylvain moves closer until he is beside Felix, taking in the drowsy, disarmed look on his face, the only time of day he’ll ever get to enjoy it. There’s a stain on his upper lip from the wine they drank too much of last night, and a wrinkle on his cheek from the pillowcase. 

“Hey,” Sylvain begins softly, and is about to move a strand of hair out of his face when Felix wraps his hand around Sylvain’s cock, warm and still half-hard from sleep. He sighs as Felix begins to stroke, looking up at him with an expression so hungry that Sylvain is instantly, profoundly stiff.

Felix once called him insatiable, which always makes Sylvain smile wryly to think of when he’s this wanton and forward - how he usually gets when their time together is dwindling.

And Sylvain loves when Felix is like this. He knows it’s mostly a desperation to make up for all the time they’ll be apart, but it’s also Felix wanting to give Sylvain something to remember. Felix always tries to give him more than anyone ever could; he wants to haunt Sylvain’s thoughts with memories of his body any time Sylvain is with anyone else. He wants to be the only constant company Sylvain keeps.

He’d never admit he’s doing it, that he cares, and Sylvain would never admit that he doesn’t need to try.

Felix licks his lips and Sylvain stumbles closer, hips rocking into Felix’s touch until Felix’s mouth is on him at the edge of the bed. Felix doesn’t waste even a moment on teasing Sylvain and takes him in long, wet strokes, twisting his wrist at the base and working up an easy rhythm. He’s so good at this now. Sylvain admires the way his long black hair spills across the pillow. He buries his fingers in the glossy strands and gives the gentlest tug. “Oh, Felix,” he breathes, his knees heavy. Felix answers with a groan against his flesh.

Sylvain feels ravenous, and yet still can’t shake his bitter, quiet thoughts that he’ll be alone again soon. He digs his fingers deeper in Felix’s hair and thrusts firmly into his mouth, conjuring memories of the past three days’ diplomatic updates punctuated by long evenings of drinking, games of cards and satisfying the craving to be close. Duty inevitably separates them for months, although Sylvain wonders if it’s better this way. He rather enjoys having to warm Felix up at first and cajole him into bed every time. He likes the chase, and Felix likes letting him win. By the end, his barriers are shed, and he’s greedily swallowing Sylvain down like a man dying of thirst.

As Felix’s tongue laves over the head of his cock, Sylvain remembers him crawling across the couch and into his lap last night. When he pulls his cock away, leaving Felix’s lips pink and tender, he remembers kissing Felix and tasting bitter wine until they were both maddeningly hard. When he drops his robe, climbs back under the covers and lays against Felix’s hot skin, he remembers Felix riding him until his legs shook and he barely had anything left to give. When he reaches down to work his lover open, he finds him still soft.

Felix is always quiet, and Sylvain doesn’t mind. He treasures each trembling gasp and each rough, tiny moan Felix is willing to offer him. He tastes himself on Felix’s lips as he presses his thighs back, rolling into him slowly, over and over. He wants to bury his face permanently in the perfect slope of Felix’s pale neck. 

Felix’s hips move to meet him and Sylvain can’t stop endless praise from tumbling out. “So good, so good for me, Felix,” he breathes. His fingertips fall into place over bruises he already put there. “Want this all the time. Stay with me. All day. Any way you like. Anything.” 

“Sylvain,” Felix manages, breaking the silence he’s kept since waking.

“Darling,” Sylvain answers, his nose to Felix’s cheek.

“Sylvain,” he repeats, and Sylvain’s heart pulls tight at the sound of Felix’s rough, deep voice keening his name again. “I need it,” Felix sobs.

“Yes, darling,” Sylvain soothes, still driving deep with his cock as he lifts his chest up and brings one large hand to Felix’s throat.

As he squeezes the gentle hook of his hand against Felix’s thrumming vein, he thinks of how lucky he is for Felix to let him have him like this. That Felix not only tolerates him, trusts him, let alone wants him after all this time, makes Sylvain want to worship him. By now he knows how to aim for the sweetest spot inside Felix, and so he does, every third stroke, until Felix is trembling and spilling his hot release across his stomach, some of it reaching Sylvain’s wrist.

If Felix ever makes noise, it’s usually right after he’s come and he’s sensitive and pliant as Sylvain lets loose to find his own orgasm. It’s why Sylvain never lasts long enough to try and make him come twice. Felix’s hands move to Sylvain’s shoulders, neck, hair, caressing him while he keeps his hips angled to give Sylvain all the depth he can. Sylvain’s hips beat against Felix’s skin relentlessly, but he’s murmuring every tender pet name he’s ever called Felix, and some that Felix assumes he kept for himself in secret. _Heart of hearts. My prince of ice. My thorny rose._ In return, Felix makes the sweetest sounds and digs his fingernails into Sylvain’s skin, his thighs squeezed so tightly around Sylvain that he couldn’t break free if he tried.

—

The fire is dying down and Sylvain is tracing the sharp angle of Felix’s jaw with one finger. Felix’s eyes are closed and he’s still letting himself enjoy being pampered and admired for now, all his stray locks of black hair long since tucked behind his ear by the besotted man in bed with him. But they’ve been basking for too long, and Felix should prepare to leave soon. He opens his eyes to look at Sylvain’s face, closer than he’ll ever be for the next few months. His long eyelashes have always been one of his best features, Felix thinks.

“We always have fun, don’t we?” Sylvain says with a wink, but there’s a stiffness to his voice. Felix’s expression changes, like he’s water starting to harden into ice.

Sylvain grabs the back of Felix’s neck, moving his face closer. He knows Felix is protecting himself, retreating back into his safe shell, but Sylvain has always worn his emotions on his sleeve, and Felix listens more nowadays. “I’ll miss you. I always do.”

Felix sighs and grumbles, “Me too.” He rushes forward to bury his face in Sylvain’s chest, grasping his sides, and he inhales deeply before sighing again. Then, just as fast, he turns away and gets to his feet.

Sylvain is locating his robe again when he hears Felix say, “Hm.” Those who know Felix know his laugh.

He’s standing by the window, still nude, and Sylvain joins him to see what’s amusing, wrapping his robe around Felix and resting his head on his shoulder. “Oh,” he blurts out.

There’s probably five feet of snow on the ground for miles around the Gautier main house.

There’s no way horses and a coach, let alone men on foot, will be able to make it through until it’s dealt with. Another day and a half at least, and that’s just if the sun stays strong. That Sylvain’s personal attendant, the only one permitted to inquire at his quarters, hasn’t come to bother them about gathering Felix to his team and returning him to his estate, means that he’s definitely not leaving today.

Sylvain begins to giggle. Felix is turning his head to hide his smirk, and Sylvain's breath tickles under his ear until he’s grinning, telling Sylvain to stop but not meaning it. Sylvain makes a mental note to send for another bottle of wine, but first they’re going to indulge in another hour of sleep, and whatever else.

**Author's Note:**

> title from "heart 'o hearts" by chela
> 
> find me on twitter @j0ltron


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